


I Wanna Be Yours

by j_gabrielle



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Tormund is the right Dom, I'm not going to tag this as BDSM but just know that I wrote this for a prompt, Jon just wants to be a Sub for the right Dom, Light Angst, M/M, and it was meant to have a thread of that, two idiots who just need to talk it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 04:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19077910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: Tormund’s voice is a slow and honeyed roll, and the way his name trips over the man’s tongue is hypnotic. His cream coloured knit sweater stretches taut over thick broad shoulders as he moves, and the going has the wordsTAKE ME MY BODY IS READYscreaming in Jon’s head like klaxons.





	I Wanna Be Yours

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I’d like to preface this fic with a disclaimer that I am not, nor was I ever, part of a BDSM community. Everything I know of the BDSM community is from the Internet and through reading, which is not always the most accurate of things. I’ve tried to keep it as vague as possibly, and I implore anyone who is interested in the community to do their research x
> 
> [Originally posted on my Tumblr](https://randomingoftherandomness.tumblr.com/post/185337916337/hello-if-youre-still-taking-prompts-see-if-this)

“Hello Jon.“ 

Tormund’s voice is a slow and honeyed roll, and the way his name trips over the man’s tongue is hypnotic. His cream coloured knit sweater stretches taut over thick broad shoulders as he moves, and the going has the words _TAKE ME MY BODY IS READY_ screaming in Jon’s head like klaxons. 

“My usual, please,” He says instead with a cough and a smile. Sliding into his usual seat at the bar, he taps his fingers to the discordant beat of the music from the speakers. It’s still too early for the usual throng of sweaty bodies and hunters on a prowl for a one night stand, but Jon likes it this way. The lack of people makes it easier for him to steal Tormund’s attention for himself. 

“Not holding court tonight?” Tormund says when he comes back with Jon’s drink. It’s a shared joke, the drink and the question; Jon has always had this effect of drawing the attention of Doms who wanted to make him bend over and submit, and Tormund, being the owner and head bartender, has always been the one to come to put in the fear of God into anyone who gets too insistent.

“Maybe I just like sitting here, looking at you,” Jon retorts. Tormund laughs, throwing his head back, the deep guffaw of his amusement sliding down Jon’s back like a warm caress.  

 _I made him laugh_ , he thinks with a little happy trill. Tormund’s warm gaze is fond when their eyes meet, and it makes Jon feel something curiously akin to pleasure that he made Tormund look like that. He blushes, drinking from his straw and letting the sweet hit of cocktail wash over his tongue.

Tormund is called over to the other side of the bar, and Jon contents himself with watching him. The music changes into some deep House, and Jon lets himself relax. Tormund’s voice carries to his end, and Jon feels his heart flip unpleasantly when he sees that the man is smiling at two pretty girls chatting him up. 

He pulls his focus away when Tormund looks over. It’s not right, he thinks. He shouldn’t–

But Tormund’s not his, wasn’t he? He never was, and won’t ever be.

Jon’s never been shy about not wanting to commit, and what had cemented their friendship in the first place was that Tormund was one of the very few Doms who never tried to make him do anything he didn’t want. In fact, all they’d had was that one night in Tormund’s flat that had left Jon wanting _more_.

The girls laugh at something Tormund says, and it rankles at him. He is ready to call it a night, maybe going home to curl up in his pyjamas and watch a rom com on Netflix or something and wallow in a pint of Ben & Jerry, when Tormund’s shadow flit into the corner of his eye. 

“Leaving so soon?” He tilts his head. Backlit by the bar, he looks like an angel, and Jon aches to reach out and touch. He settles for curling his fingers on the condensation of the glass.

“Not my night, I’m afraid,” He shrugs. Jon lifts his drink to finish it, but is stopped by Tormund’s big hand over his. He looks up to see blue eyes piercing into his soul. 

“Hey Edd! I’m taking the rest of the night off!” Tormund smiles, slow and sweet. His thumb runs over the back of Jon’s hand like a brand of promise. 

“What!” 

“I’m taking the night off,” Tormund holds their gaze for a moment before he pulls his touch away, ducking under the bar and pulling his leather jacket and a small bag out. Edd, Tormund’s wiry, constantly stressed manager, frowns at his boss. “You can handle it.” He beams, clapping him on the shoulder.

Edd scoffs, turning to Jon. “You best not break him, you hear me?”

“I–”

“Come on,” Tormund slides a hand to Jon’s shoulder, tugging him off his seat and guiding him to the door. And then, just as they cross the threshold, Tormund stops and wraps his arm around Jon’s waist. “Tell me to fuck off, and I will. Tell me I’m not reading you wrong, and we’ll do whatever you want.” He says. Brilliant blue eyes are big and wide and pleading, and it takes all of Jon not to buckle under the humbling weight of realisation that, _oh, he means  what I think he means_.

Jon cups a shaky hand to Tormund’s cheek, licking his lips. Words escape him, and the air in his lungs rattles and swells. Swaying into Tormund’s arms, he arches up, kissing him long, deep and heated. “I want to be yours,” He whispers, giddy and happy. 

Tormund smiles, catching him in another kiss, only to pull away when they look back into the cacophony in the bar, and Edd screeching on the top of his lungs, “ _Fucking_ finally!”

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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